


100 Nights with You

by pluepluegirl



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Fade Dreams, Fade Romance, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation, Porn with Plot ?, Post-Trespasser, Smut, Solavellan, Voyeurism, elf crying, elf loving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10076195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluepluegirl/pseuds/pluepluegirl
Summary: Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from an endless distance. If they were more than simple dreams she could not say, for every time she reached for him, he vanished into nothing. Still, she searched, and dreamed, and waited, for a way to change the Dread Wolf’s heart.From the first night that she had become aware of his presence in the Fade, to the countless dreams thereafter. Lavellan struggles to record every encounter that she has with him in the fade, in order to preserve her memory of him, grasping with conviction at the memory of fleeting dreams. One day, she just might find the key that will bring her to him.(Tags will be added as the chapters go on.)





	1. Into the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> A series of drabbles about Lavellan traversing her dreams in the fade in an attempt to see Solas and convince him to change his mind. Written with ambiguity to allow everyone to imagine their own Lavellan Inquisitors. The sinful chapters are marked at the start of the chapter's title. Hope you guys enjoy.

_“I have decided to record my dreams in this journal in order to grasp some meaning behind Solas’ visits in the fade. Hopefully, this will help me to gather information on his whereabouts and allow me to recall what little I have left of him._ _I can feel him in my dreams, watching me from afar. I don’t understand. Why doesn't he reveal himself? I wish to see him too, as much as I believe he wishes to see me.”_

* * *

Placing her cloak on to shield herself from the cold, the former Inquisitor had ventured out into the forests beneath Skyhold for some peace and quiet. Of course, the fortress was significantly quieter after most of its soldiers and agents returned home. Especially after the servants, diplomats and guests from Val Royeaux had packed their things and left once interest in the Inquisition begun to flicker out.

However, being alone with her thoughts within the walls of Skyhold greatly unnerved Lavellan and she chose the forests beyond to seek refuge, in order to avoid reliving painful memories and past silhouettes. Partaking in the fresh mountain air, the Dalish elf appreciated the company of nature and its precious wildlife skittering about the terrain. Oh, how she missed it.

For once, she could truly relax and once again appreciate life, not as the Inquisitor but as Lavellan, the elf that she once was before the Breach tore open the sky, and she was exposed to an organisation’s rigours of war, politics and curious characters. Within the course of time, much has changed her, especially the loss of her left forearm. It might seem like a small disadvantage to others, but to her, it was so much more.

Lavellan was known as a great fighter, next to her leadership. And now, she could no longer fight and hunt at peak condition. It crippled and robbed her of even the simplest of actions. Never had she realised that changing clothes could be so frustrating.

At first, it took some getting used to, the fleeting glances directed at the arm that used to be there. Some even took a double take just to make sure. Even Josephine was a little skittish about broaching the subject. Leliana and Cullen were a little more forgiving.

Upon seeing her, Leliana only gave a look that needed the Inquisitor’s reassurance that she was fine. Then she went about her business as if nothing changed. Cullen had seen many soldiers lose their limbs in the process of war. If anything, he understood the most how she would wish to be treated in that time. He was patient and sympathetic, offering a listening ear to her if she ever needed it.

Cassandra, on the other hand, had refused to leave her side for a couple of weeks, awkwardly offering help with menial things, watching the Inquisitor like a hawk. It was endearing to see her close friend so attentive to her, but it soon became close to suffocating.

In fact, Varric joked about comparing Cassandra to ‘a vulture stalking its wounded prey’, in an attempt to lighten the mood. It worked, sort of. At least Lavellan could quietly slip away and have a moment to herself while the Seeker was ripping the dwarf a new one. 

Dorian was a terrible comfort at first but decided that carrying on as if nothing happened and making dry jokes about her arm with her was a good enough way to show that he cared. He knew that she preferred not to draw special attention to it when it could be helped. Though he was strangely keen to read with her at seats closer to tables, places where she could put rest her book on, allowing her to thumb pages comfortably.

She would find Vivienne, Cole and several other comrades advising her on how to deal with her arm. Some offered for her to stay with them, others, mainly Sera and Iron Bull, suggested that a weapon should be put in place of her missing forearm. Joking that while having no forearm was a ‘downer’, having a weapon that would be a part of you, would definitely be a fine upgrade. Plus, it would look cool in the long run.

She contemplated on taking up their suggestion. It was an idea she favoured in comparison to the rest.

As the leaves crunched under her boots, she basked upon the sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees, haphazardly aligned by nature’s own design. It was breathtaking. Soon, evening was upon her, and Lavellan was due to return to Skyhold – before Cassandra decides to send out a search party to ‘ensure her safety’.

Backtracking her way, she enters a clearing. While strolling through it, she feels something or someone watching her. It must be a predatorial animal. Steeling herself, she slowly turns around, in order not to startle it. Instead, she lays eyes on a pack of wolves, peacefully walking through the trees, going about their own business.

For a second, her heart skips a beat, recalling her knowledge of Solas, her beloved, of being the Dread Wolf. Something in her heart sinks, knowing that he was no longer with her, and yet, his memory continued to haunt her. Allowing herself a second more to watch them, she pictured him as a black wolf with six glowing red eyes, as depicted in the frescos, walking his own path through the forests as well.

“Solas.”

She softly calls out, like a prayer that she hopes the wolves would carry on for her, to let him know that she was still thinking of him, still looking for ways to change his heart.

The wolves continue to walk on, deeper into the forest. The ears of the wolf at the rear of the pack, closest to Lavellan, twitch at the sound of her voice, but treats it no differently as it would to a rustle of leaves generated by the winds. Clenching her only fist in sorrow, she begins to make her way towards Skyhold.

When her back was turned, the wolf at the rear stops in its track and turns its head to look back at her, its eyes full of sorrow and longing. 

That wolf was Solas. 

Feeling his gaze upon her, Lavellan quickly turns back, but the wolves were gone, disappeared without a trace. She could feel herself become undone from within. Her knees lose their strength and she falls to the ground. Gone was her Solas. Gone was the Dread Wolf.

* * *

Waking up with a start, Lavellan pants in an attempt to relieve the wrenching ache in her chest. A light sheen of sweat covers her forehead. Unable to control the stress of her emotions, tears begin to stream from her eyes. Sitting up, she buries her head in her hands, mourning the loss of Solas. In the darkness, she allows herself a silent moment in the light of her weakness, her heart continuing to call out for her love.

* * *

Gazing at the distant mountains before him, the Dread Wolf stands at attention, with his hands behind his back in a show of reverence and calm wisdom. However, upon looking into his eyes, one would be able to see sorrow and longing in them. She was so far away, and he could not resist the temptation to tap into the fade and see her.

And there he saw her, in the vision of a wolf, walking through the woods, appreciating the nature around her, and all its life had to offer. In her, he saw the beauty of her spirit. Bright and dazzling as ever, eyes innocent.

An innocence that had died a little and ebbed once he took her arm and her heart from her. He tried to distance himself, to lessen her suffering, but it was painful to resist the urge to see her in the fade. He had to admit to himself that he missed her, and he longed for her.

And if he had his way, he would have had her in his arms as soon as he possibly could, showering her with all the affection that he had to offer in every fibre of his being. But alas, that was impossible, and they could only meet in their dreams, in the fade.

In her, he saw the beauty of her spirit. Bright and dazzling as ever, eyes innocent. An innocence that had died a little and ebbed once he took her arm and her heart from her.

He tried to distance himself, to lessen her suffering, but it was painful to resist the urge to see her in the fade. He had to admit to himself that he missed her, and he longed for her. And if he had his way, he would have had her in his arms as soon as he possibly could, showering her with all the affection that he had to offer in every fibre of his being.

But alas, that was impossible, and they could only meet in their dreams, in the fade.


	2. Take Away the Vallaslin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Occasionally, I would write chapters where the Inquisitor would still have her arm. After all, who can really control what a dream conjures up?

_“Night after night, I dedicate my focus into searching for him. Some nights, he will not be there, but during most, he would be. The opportunity for me to be **able** to see him has been difficult. He hides too well. I can’t tell where he is, but I know that he is always there, watching me from the shadows of the fade. Perhaps tonight he will watch over me again. I must focus harder. I must see him again.”_

* * *

Lavellan finds herself staring up at two beautifully carved Halla statues, their legs posed in a dignified, majestic stance, arching in a way that seemingly formed a grand entrance. Today’s vision was much clearer. She knew this place; she was at the Wyrm Hole, where Solas had decided to stop their relationship, after removing her vallaslin for her.

It was perfect weather for a stroll; the Sun was at the point where it shone brightly over her surroundings but was not too hot to heat her skin. The water was serene, allowing her to feel some sort of peace. She makes her way to the edge, seating herself on a rock. Looking into the pond, she finds her tattoos still there on her face.

However, instead of being alarmed at its re-appearance, she finds herself calm, as if it was how she was meant to look like. Her mind searches for events that pertained to her being here and the meaning behind her vallaslin. All she recalled was Solas, removing her tattoos…in the evening?

Her surroundings distort a little once she showed doubt in her environment. At the same time, the mention of Solas gave her the realisation that he might be seen tonight. With her hope acting as a vessel, she reaches out to beckon his appearance, to have his appearance coincide with events that happened before.

She wanted to see him, needed him to cast his spell, and remove the vallaslin like he did before. She turned to look around, all the while reaching up to touch her face, as if soothing a pain beneath her skin. She hadn’t realised that she had her other arm back. The Inquisitor scanned for any sign of him.

And then, she feels it.

She feels him.

 _He is here!_ Solas has arrived.

 _‘Solas!’_ her thoughts call out for him.

Darting her eyes about, she struggled to remain calm as she searched for him, for her panic would only cause her to lose control over the dream.

She spots him, a black wolf, in the distance, watching her from the sand dunes. Gusts of sand billowed about, surrounding the creature. It looked upon her with sorrowful eyes; striking a pang in her heart.

Desperately, she makes a dash to him, reaching out her hand in an effort to close the gap between them as much as she possibly can.

“Solas!”

With determination, she calls out his name, hoping that her words would reach him. But no matter how much she ran, it felt as if her steps never carried her any closer, as if her legs were too heavy, rendering her too slow. A soft, fearful whimper leaves her lips, pleading to the fade.

_Please, let me reach him._

However, it does the opposite. As if on cue, the gusts of sand engulf the wolf, leaving only its silhouette before the creature fully fades off into the distance. She begins to panic, causing her surroundings to blur. The environment begins to melt around her, and everything falls into black.

* * *

Jolting awake, Lavellan only frowns, struggling to come to terms with being back in the real world. Sweat dotted her forehead. Her heart pounded hard against her chest.

She swallowed and let her shoulders slouch. _‘What a nightmare.’_

It was already morning and the Sun’s rays shone brightly through the windows. She attempts to recall the events of her dream.

She remembers most of it, thankfully, but the thought of having failed again made her stomach churn.

_‘I was so close…’_

More importantly, it was hard for her to remain calm after having such a terrifying dream. It was as if she couldn’t move at all. There was a sense of emptiness in her heart, a gap that can never seem to be filled by anything else other than Solas.

“Solas…” She calls out his name in the large expanse of her bedroom in Skyhold, a whisper that only she can hear.

Tears began to well up in her eyes. Sitting up, she pulls her knees close to her chest, burying her head into her crossed arms. The elf tries to comfort herself, attempting to maintain some semblance of control over her emotions.

After she recovers, Lavellan was sure; that by nightfall, she would once again regain the strength to continue her search. Her dream was clearer this time, and she had more control over what was happening. Tonight, she shall try again. That’s what she knows. However, she can never deny that the bed feels so much emptier without him by her side.

* * *

It felt as if there was an invisible hand clutching tightly at his heart, belonging to a wretched being that wanted to punish him for all the wrong he had done unto the world, for the wrong that he had done to his vhenan.

He had visited her in the fade. And there she was, as beautiful as ever. He thought he had hid himself properly, but she had found him anyway. His vhenan had become more perceptive in her dreams as of late.What used to be hiding and looking upon her from afar was now starting to form the beginnings of a chase. She called out to him, ran to him. It was a beckoning for him. His presence was being sought after. It caught him so off guard that he had to leave abruptly.

What used to be hiding and looking upon her from afar was now starting to form the beginnings of a chase. She called out to him, ran to him. It was a beckoning for him. His presence was being sought after. It caught him so off guard that he had to leave abruptly.

After seeing the sorrow in her eyes, he wasn’t sure if he could keep on visiting her. It hurt so much, seeing her in pain, reaching out to him. Yet he knew she could not come any closer, or her will would shatter his resolve completely. He was brought out of his reverie by a knock on his door. His spy had returned, and Solas became Fen’Harel again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more fun to write. You know that feeling you get sometimes when you run in a dream and you can’t seem to move any further despite that? I thought Lavellan would experience that sort of dream too.


	3. Watch Me*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me go hide under a rock now. First smut ever written by yours truly. Solavellan hell, where you truly feel the after-effects of being apart from someone until you only have yourself to pleasure with. Enjoy!

_“ ~~It’s ridiculous. If we can’t be together in our dreams, at least”~~ _

_“Solas is being stubborn.”_

 

* * *

 

Standing on the balcony in her quarters overlooking the scenery and the mountains of Skyhold, she recalled the words he justified himself with on the day he revealed himself to be Fen’Harel. 

_“-and you needed a home. Hence, Skyhold.”_

_A home…Skyhold._

She chuckled at the irony; Skyhold certainly felt more like a prison now, a prison only made so because it was filled with memories of him.

Walking back into her room, she lays herself on her bed, her preoccupation shifting to the ceiling. Most missions of import had been completed and the rest of her companions were spending their leisure time conducting their own activities. Lavellan took the chance to retire to her room for some relaxation.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she sees a dark silhouette of a man, watching her. She already has a feeling that she knows who it is. Upon having an idea enter her mind and a surge of sudden, unfounded confidence, she smirks to herself.

She begins to remove her blouse, button by button. The shadow shifted its weight a little. She sheds her trousers next and finally her smallclothes…slow…teasing as she did, making sure to strip away her garments as slowly as she possibly could. While doing so, never did she stop gazing at the shadowed figure, making sure that it was always watching her.

She cups one hand over her breast, massaging it, while the other begin to trace downwards in between her legs. The figure shifts again but says nothing. Tracing light circles around her clit, she teases herself like how Solas would, making little frictions around her bundle of nerves.

She moans softly, keening towards her own hand. The shadow flickers in response. Then, she spreads her legs, allowing the apparition to see her sweet blossom.

Looking at the shadow hungrily, she sinks a finger into herself, moaning his name as she did. 

“Solas.”

Forming a rhythm that her vhenan would usually take, slow and savoury, she adds in a second finger, and then quickly followed by a third as she continues to thrust into herself, moving in circles around her walls. Her moans became louder as she writhed under her own ministrations. She doesn't stop. She knows the effect she has on it, on him.

Soon, she picks up the pace, thrusting with rhythm, bringing down her other hand to massage her clit in time with her fingers. As she reaches her peak, her unabashed moans become louder, echoing throughout the room. Her back arches to the ceiling, hips moving closer, trying to get more of her fingers inside herself as she possibly could.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!”

Before long, she cums screaming Solas’ name. A euphoria washes over her as she moans, not caring how loud she was, how her sound reverberated throughout the room as it bounced off the stone walls. Upon completion, she pants as she comes down from her high. She sees the shadow flicker a little more before she decides to wake up.

 

* * *

 

Lavellan opened her eyes to the morning Sun shining through her windows. Staring at the ceiling, she recalled her dream. She could only smirk to herself, wondering how Solas must be feeling on the other side.

 

* * *

 

 

Awoken from the fade, Solas sat on his bed, rubbing his neck. The Dread Wolf stares at the problem growing between his legs. He sighs, hot and greatly bothered from his vhenan’s teasing. The way she looked at him, caressing herself, imagining that it was him that was giving her sweet pleasure. Oh, how he wished that it were true. And her delicious moans, it was enough to make him hard.

His love knew he was there, watching, and thus, took advantage of the situation. She was growing stronger in her mastery of her own dreams. Such was his Lavellan.

Yet, as much as his mind cautioned him, like an alarm ringing in his head, he couldn’t look away. She was much too tantalizing. It has been too long since he had seen her in her throes of passion, watching her face lost to pleasure as she arched in search of breathtaking completion.

He yearns to feel her body flush against his, to be the one to coax those beautiful moans from her. Maker help him, the sight of her, moaning his name, calling out for him. He recalls her blissful expression, scrunched up in unadulterated pleasure as she came in front of him, calling out his name, reminding him that he used to be the one who would be the cause of her erotic climaxes and yet, he was unable to touch her.

It made him harder knowing that she pleasured herself to the thought of him. A low groan rumbled from within him. Upon hearing himself, he chuckles at her antics. Perhaps it was her payback for keeping a distance from her in the fade.

Absentmindedly, he proceeds to touch himself, sighing, while replaying the image of his vhenan in his mind.


	4. Imagine the Open Fields*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's two in a row. I swear I need to explore something more angsty, just to mess with people. Enjoy!

_“His loving eyes bore into my soul as we lain together. Dear Maker, why must you torment me so?”_

 

* * *

 

The Sun was warm and bright. The Hinterlands were glowing and peaceful. A figure slightly lifts the hem of her beautiful white dress as she ran gleefully through the meadows, her hair flowing in the wind. The elven lady laughed as she went, looking behind her to see her lover playfully giving chase.

In his eyes, a predatory glint, and a small chuckle earned at her laugh. Lavellan looked upon him with cheeky eyes, as if daring him to run faster. Raising an eyebrow, he sped up. Unfortunately for her, that was as fast as she could run in that dress but she continued to run, looking forward. Glancing back one more time to see how close he was, she finds that he was missing.

Her heart skipped a beat at his disappearance. But before she could think of anything else, she bumped into firm muscles. It was Solas. He looked upon her with triumph, as he grasped her by the elbows, preventing her fall as she jumped a little, and also to pause her efforts to run should she choose to do so.

For a moment, confusion graced her features, wondering how he managed to get to her without her knowing. She brushed the thought aside, reveling in the closeness between them. They say nothing, their eyes being their main tool to communicate. And all they spoke were words of affection, mischievous flirtations, and love.

“You are truly a vision to behold,” he whispered, praise meant only for her ears.

“Is that so?” She probes; closing what little space they had left.                  

Solas leans in with a smile, caressing her cheek with his right, her tresses lightly touching his fingertips.

“More so than anything I’ve ever known vhenan.” He calls her affectionately.

He studies her features, committing them to memory to the best of his ability. She does the same. He also sees something else in her eyes; it was Lavellan searching for something. Without further hesitation, she holds him by the waist, leaning in to place a tender kiss to his lips.

Before he could fully enjoy the touch of her soft lips, she breaks it, looking up at him seductively, daring for him to try and chase for another. The lust in her eyes stirs something within the elven man.

Just as she was about to turn away, he pulls her flush against him. His hand finds its way to her derrière, her hips meeting his own, showing her how hard he was for her. How strong her effect was on him, that only she could stir such a reaction from him.

She catches a glimpse of his darkened eyes before getting caught in his passionate kiss. Solas greedily swallowed Lavellan’s moans, teasing and biting at her bottom lip. Her fingers gripped at his clothes, clutching for dear life as she began to quiver under his ministrations.

He nibbles her earlobe, earning a delicious shudder from her. His lips trail chaste kisses down her neck. It draws out a lust-filled sigh.

A blush spreads across her cheeks, as she grew heated at their exchange. She couldn’t wait anymore. She wanted to feel him in her, feel him, as he would thrust into her with abandon. She could feel herself become1 wet at the thought of it.

“Solas please,” she whimpered, “I need you…”

He shivered at the sound of her plea, wanting, needing, only him. She was so beautiful, and in the throes of pleasure, even more so. She was so irresistible, and he needed more of her, more of his vhenan.

“…My heart.” Was all he said, pulling her down to the ground with him, flipping them over so that he would cushion their fall. She lets out a yelp at his sudden gesture, her head landing on his chest as she straddled him.

Immediately, she lifts herself to check on him. All she saw was Solas looking up at her with a small smile, adoration evident in his eyes. Her heart flutters and she is unable to contain herself any longer.

She began to roll her hips, grinding against his length. They groan in unison from the friction. Lavellan bites her bottom lip in an effort to control herself. It just felt so good, so good.

He thrusts his hips, brushing by her opening. Her breath hitches at the sensation.

“Solas, please!”

“Vhenan…” he sighs, voice low, untying and relieving himself of his breeches.

She begins to remove her smalls in anticipation of what was to come, leaving her dress on. Positioning herself over him, she looks to him for consent. He answers by lifting his hips a little, his tip resting between her folds.

She gasps at the feeling. Slowly, she lets herself slide down onto him, reveling in the sensation of being filled. She moans loudly, her face scrunching up in pleasure as she continued to writhe on top of him.

A small groan escaped Solas at her warmth surrounding him. By the Maker, she was so hot, so tight, and so magnificent. She lets out a heft sigh, as he was finally buried in her to the hilt.

Not allowing her another moment to rest, Solas grabs her by the hips and thrusts up and hard into her, effectively hitting her sweet spot on the first try.

“Aaah!” A cry was forced out of her. She threw her head back and she arched as sweet bliss washed over her. Her nails were dug a little into his chest, clutching for dear life.

Smirking with pride, he continued to thrust up into her, hitting that same angle every. Single. Time. Soon, she was a moaning mess, fingers clawing and pressed deep into his shoulders. Forming little red, crescent moons, and angry marks in its wake.

The pain added to the intensity of their act, driving Solas towards the edge. He missed her so much, the feeling of loving her, being buried in her. And here she was, riding him with abandon as she met in time with his thrusts, chanting his name like a mantra.

“Hnngh…Solas! Solas!”

She was already lost to the pleasure, moving her hips in a lewd fashion, reduced to think of nothing else but the man she loves beneath her, saying nothing but his name. He groaned, finding it harder to keep himself together. But he would hold on a little longer, he wanted prolong his time with her; he wanted to come together with her.

“Cum with me vhenan, I wish to hear you call my name.” He strains, unable to hide the plea in his voice.

Approaching the height of her orgasm, she began to tense. Noticing it, he let go of one hand on her hip, allowing her to support herself as he thumbed at her clit in circles.

“Oh! Oh, Maker! Solas!” She cried out, beads of tears welled at the side of her eyes at the overwhelming pleasure. She moved faster as his circles became more frequent.

With one final thrust, he grinds up into her, pushing her into her climax. She screams his name to the fade for all to hear. Upon feeling her walls clench around him, he arched, spilling his seed inside of her with a strained moan.

Just as she sees stars, her vision turns bright white. From the light, she hears a muffled voice calling out to her from the blur.

 

* * *

 

“Inquisitor!” A low, feminine, muffled voice rang from behind the door.

“Inquisitor, are you awake?” It rang again as knocks started from behind the wooden door of the tavern. It was Cassandra.

Eyes wide open; Lavellan takes in slow breaths, her face flushed from the dream. She was wet, and her body ached for the real Solas. Her chest became tight at the pleasure built within her.

With her only hand, the Inquisitor leans on her side to push herself upwards. She struggles, forcing herself to sit up, still groggy. Groaning, and slightly annoyed at the rude awakening, she gulps to warm up her throat before answering.

“I’m awake.”

“Alright, I will see you at the table for breakfast.” At the sound of the Inquisitor’s affirmation, the Seeker leaves her alone to get ready.

The Inquisitor and her trusted companion, Cassandra had decided to visit a few retired Inquisition soldiers residing in Crestwood and the Hinterlands together to ensure their welfare after the end of the war with Corypheus.

Cassandra’s appearance at her door probably meant that they were set to leave again for another soldier.

Dressing in her robes and armor, she thinks back to the dream. The memory of them running in the Hinterlands together, enjoying each other’s embrace, and loving each other as they were meant to.

She recalled the feeling of Solas holding her again, lavishing her with all the pleasure and affection in the world. It sent another tremor through her loins. The blood within her fingers tremble at the thought of him.

Sighing, she fished out her journal from her knapsack, quickly penning down the contents of the dream before she forgot. She would need to head out for a dip in the cold lake first before joining her friend later. 

 

* * *

 

Solas couldn’t bring himself to get up from bed after such a dream. Staring at the ceiling, he felt himself stand at attention. Palming his erection, he began to pump it, not even attempting the option to will it away.

He was too far-gone in the fade, lured in by the promise of a peaceful life with his beloved. He could feel himself just a step too close to giving into the dreams. It was the possibility of them being together, seeking refuge in the fade from the cruel nature of reality which loved to tear them apart. At this point, thoughts of pretending that he could not be bothered with taking care of his predicament were thrown out the window.

Instead, he submits himself to recalling the feeling of being together with his vhenan, drawing on the memory of their dream to bring himself to completion. 


End file.
